The Party
by Freya Stone
Summary: NOT TWILIGHT RELATED AT ALL. This is just a short, twisted story I decided to put up involving a perfect wife, a terrible betrayal, and a very fitting end.... As always, review if you wish.


_Hey guys! This is just something random I put up, not ready yet to dive back into Twilight fanfictions until I can come up with something. As always, review if you wish._

_Love,_

_Freya Stone_

The Party 

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Courtney Elizabeth Velour's strode quickly down the many aisles of the local store, eyeing the many assortments of individually packaged snack crackers. She wore a white, strapless sun dress that went down to her knees and was just the right size so that it fit snugly around her small bust area. Courtney's long, wavy, sun kissed blonde hair went down to the small of her back and curled at the very tips, and at the top of her head she adorned a neatly stitched straw hat that was supposed to have protected her flawless porcelain skin from the afternoon heat. However, some of the sunlight had managed to leak through and now her cheeks were sunburned with a shade of pink. That afternoon, around promptly 3pm and not a minute later, Courtney's neighborhood friends would be arriving for their weekly book club meeting. However, on the contrary, the meetings always seemed to morph into parties of an interesting sort.

Needless to say, the meetings always ranged from talking about the book, to all of the girls being absorbed into the gossip pool that was woven tightly into the small town of Turtledove. The town consisted of a rather tightly knit population of merely one thousand families, and abundant number of shops and small diners, as well as the occasional homeless person that passed through begging for pocket change. The town, to all of its inhabitants seemed perfect and flawless. Not a child seen that didn't go to school, nor a husband that didn't come home at the end of the day to his loving children and adoring wife. Courtney smiled at the thought of her husband, Roger, whom was most likely home by now, sitting as his desk, racking his brain as he sifted through a large amount of numbers that lay strewn everywhere. Roger was an accountant, money was flowing into the home constantly, and it surprised Courtney even to this day that Roger was just never capable of leaving his work at home with him.

After snatching a box of Ritz crackers, buttered and lightly salted, Courtney purchased her items and quickly walked out to the parking lot. She would need to get home quickly, make sure the sitting room wasn't a disaster and chase Roger away from the house before her book club friends arrived. All she would have to do was stuff a few dollar bills into his pocket, give him a swift kiss upon the cheek and he would be running off to the golf course for the aroma of cigars, beers, and the chatter of his male friends. When Courtney arrived home, she fumbled with her house keys at the front door but finally managed to get inside and sighed heavily as she set the grocery's down onto the black marble kitchen counter. Her home was large of course, marble and granite everywhere it could have been placed, and only the finest tile from Europe.

"Roger!" Courtney called, as she strode into her husbands office and found no trace of him.

Perplexed, Courtney walked back towards the kitchen and on the tile floor, right at the base of the large wooden stair case that led upstairs, something resting there caught her attention. There, on the floor, was Rogers black trench coat. Slowly, Courtney bent down and picked it up. This was very strange and peculiar because Roger always hung up his coat in the closet, or at the very least slung it over the stairs railing post. Although he was a man, he still always held a sense of neatness and wanting things in there correct order. Calling for him again, and still receiving no answer Courtney went upstairs, the coat in hand to find her missing husband. Walking down the hallway, Courtney noticed that her bedroom door was open a small crack. Her nose wrinkled for a moment, due to the fact that one of her pet peeves was not having their bedroom door closed at all times. Courtney walked towards the door, and as her hand reached out to clutch the knob her eyes raised as well, and widened as they focused on the inside of their bedroom.

The sheets lay crumpled on the bed, in a mess, twisted but not being able to conceal the form of her husband, Roger, who had discarded all of his clothing onto the floor and was lying on top of, kissing, breathing heavily onto with each sweaty exhale a small, naked, and rather beautiful brunette haired women who Courtney immediately recognized...as Rogers personal secretary. The scent of sweat, heat, toxic passion, and desire flooded out of the room and wafted right into Courtney's face, her eyes wide in terror, bottom lip trembling as she could feel her stomach about to release vomit brought on by nausea. Her lips parted, but no words broke free as her eyes madly scanned the room and she saw her "husbands" discarded wedding ring that lay on the bedside nightstand. Hands trembling, clenched tightly at her side into two fists she could feel the anger boiling deep inside the very pit of her stomach, it raced up to her lungs and twisted so tightly that Courtney felt as though her very next breath would escape her.

He had betrayed her...

Suddenly, the brain vessels inside Courtney's head that controlled reasoning and sane-ness, snapped completely. As Courtney's fingers gave a small twitch, she burst through the bedroom door as both Roger and the secretary sat up in the bed, surprised, shocked, Roger ashamed and stammering as the secretary started to madly look around for her clothing that had gone astray. Courtney's ears had muted every other sound, aside from her pounding heart beat, and as the tears of anger, hurt, and revenge for what her husband had done to her kept flowing. She snatched a large, hard, granite statue from the bedside table, and with a shriek of hatred for both of them she raised the statue and let her rage unfold. She had lost herself completely; Courtney kept bringing the statue down, first hitting Roger and then the secretary. She couldn't hear them screaming, only saw them struggling underneath the sheets, trying to get away from her as she kept relentlessly bringing the statue down upon them both. When the statue, and suddenly her hands became coated in dark blood Courtney didn't stop, she continued to hit them, ignoring the sight of their horrified faces, or the sound of the sickening crack that resonated throughout the room as she beat the statue against her husband's head, cracking his skull. Finally...they both stopped moving beneath her...and lay still. Hand still raised high in the air, Courtney's ears seemed to un-mute themselves as she dropped the statue and heard it clatter to the floor behind her.

The sudden sound made her jump, as her eyes still lay wide and she stared down at them both. Roger and the secretary lay dead and covered in blood inside the twisted bed sheets. The sheets were so soaked with blood, to the point that it almost looked black. It had splatter almost everywhere, onto the canopy, the pillows, some of it on the walls but a large majority of the red liquid from Courtney's crime of revenge lay on her own body. Her white, beautiful sun dress was now stained and beyond repair, sweat was at the back of her neck, making her hair uncomfortably stick. She could feel the blood on her hands, as she sat there for a few moments, what seemed like half an hour as she stared down at what she had done. As Courtney stared straight into the wide, horrified, dark chocolate brown eyes of her husband...she couldn't help that her lips twitched into a small smile. He had deserved this, both of them had. He had betrayed her. What Courtney had just done, in her eyes had been completely understandable. As if in a trance, Courtney suddenly knew exactly what had to be done. She would have to move quickly, as time was of the essence.

Slowly getting off of the bed, Courtney collected the murdered victims' bodies along with the bloody sheets into a giant heap and dragged them out into the large backyard. She laid the heap near her favorite rose bush, went into the shed and snatched the largest shovel she could find, and started digging. Minutes later, after packing down the dirt so that the earth looked as though it had never been touched; Courtney put the shovel away and went back into the house. She went into the kitchen, dug around under the sink and grabbed bottles of chemicals, bleach, scrubbing pads and a bucket of hot water. Starting from the upstairs bedroom, and down the stairs all the way out into the backyard Courtney began to scrub and clean every single stain of fresh blood that was quickly starting to dry. She scrubbed quickly, pleased at how she was able to get the stains up better then when the maids that came by daily to clean the house did. Once all traces of her crime were gone, the scent of bleach and chemicals in the air, the weapon she had used to slaughter them had been cleaned and placed neatly back onto the nightstand, the bedroom and everything in the house was set as it should be Courtney went into the shower. She stripped her clothing, washed her hair, and watched the blood on her hands disappear and go down the drain along with the slight anger and tension that still lay knotted in her shoulders.

Courtney stepped out of the shower, dried herself off, and slowly slipped into a pair of panty hose and picked out the most expensive, stunning red dress that she owned and put it on. She stood in front of the large mirror in her bathroom, applying the correct amount of make up here and there that would make her look like the most stunning women in the room and hopefully, make all of her other friends ferociously envois. After putting on her black high heels and curling her hair Courtney went downstairs and placed the Ritz crackers, and random squares of ham and cheese onto the serving tray that she had placed out on the counter. She placed large bottles of wine, rum, and glasses as well onto the coffee table in the sitting room and then strode out into the backyard. Courtney walked up to where she had buried them both, Roger and the secretary and stood staring down at the grave she had made for them. She twirled for a moment, her red dress billowing as it picked up in the sudden light breeze of the afternoon.

"Do you like it _Roger_? I picked it out for _our_ anniversary next week..." Courtney mentioned, as she looked down at the grave. He loved the color red on her.

Courtney jumped, as she heard the front doorbell ring, and resonate to where she stood in the backyard. Picking up her dress carefully in her hands, Courtney rushed into the house and examined everything one last, finale time. The kitchen was clean; there wasn't a speck of dust anywhere in the house. The sitting room was set up perfectly, wine and food set out. She peered at herself in a mirror hanging in the hallway, examining her makeup and to make sure that she looked nothing but flawless. For one last act of preparation, Courtney went upstairs and took her husband's discarded wedding ring from the bedside table, and slipped it onto her finger. Finally, Courtney strode to the front door, unlocked it, and as she could already hear the sound of her guests talking and chatting, a small smile spread a crossed her lips.

...It was time for the party...

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_Review if you wish..._


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